Gallidale - Doctor Who Country Soap Opera
by claraosity
Summary: Deep in the Yorkshire Dales, hidden away by the Bad Wolf Mountains, lies the village of Gallidale. Famous for its fresh farm foods, friendly pub and caf… But mostly it's gossiping residents. Donna Noble is Gallidale's newest arrival an there's no doubt she'll soon be knees deep in drama with the Smiths (brothers John(10) and James(11)), the Harkness, the Tylers and many more…


_Grandad,_

_I'm here, I made it to Gallidale, all by myself. The M4 was backed right up to Bristol, something about an "alien encounter" at a local hospital. Ridiculous. I'm going to write a letter of complaint, that traffic was just terrible. Mind you, the council would take forever and a month to get back to me. Please tell you got mum to redirected my post? Its a bloody pain already._

_Anyway, I've just finished unpacked my things, I don't start work till Monday so I've got the week end to meet all my neighbours. Turns out I'm just down the road from Martha Jones! You remember Martha? When I had that secretary job up at Queen Vic? She was just a little junior doctor back then - now she's my new GP! Got married too, some man called John Smith. She met him out in Malawi teaching English apparently. Tried looking him up on Facebook but I didn't get anything. They've got a daughter and all. We're meeting up for a coffee, it will be lovely to have a little catch up!_

_And before you say it, no, I haven't seen any good looking young men - tell mum I'm more that happy with just me right now, thank you very much. Saying that, there is that more gorgeous man living across the road. Cheeky flirt gay though, such a same; the pretty ones always are. He's a real sweetheart, saw me unpacking this morning and offered to lend a hand. His name was..._

"Jack, Jack Harkness." He recited - clearly his favourite words - hastily taking hold of one of Donna's hand with both of his own and shaking it heartily, "well, more like Captain Jack but I don't like to brag about it."

"Donna," she eventually replied, baffled by his forwardness and distracted by his cheek bones, "Donna Noble. I'm moving in."

"I'd like to think so, last time I saw a woman with this many boxes was when my ex wife moved out. Pity she look as pretty!" He joked, flashing his beaming smile.

"Oh, really?" Donna blushed, relying probably with a little too much excitement.

His eye twitched in the sharpest of winks before he released Donna's hand to grab hold of the box at her feet. There were still quite a number jammed in the back of the car. It's was amazing how one person could acquire so much... Stuff. Jack's eyes drifted to the car full of boxes.

"Well, yeah, but even she didn't have this many. I thought I'd be neighbourly and lend a hand. We just live across the road."

Donna couldn't help but notice his American twang, (and the slightly upsetting use of we) it really was quite delightful to listen to when compared with her brash Essex drawl. He shifted the weight of the box in his hands awkwardly, Donna smirked to herself as she read the label: Books. His face was turning red carrying such a heavy load.

"Come on inside then and I'll made you a cuppa." She said, tilting her head in the direction of her her new little red bricked semi detached.

"That sounds marvellous," he accepted, pushing the gate to her garden path open with his hip, "Can't stay for too long, I'm setting up for my partner's goodbye soirée, he is shipping out again tomorrow morning."

Donna had to admit her heart had sunk at the obvious mention of a lover. Just her luck that all the pretty boys lived on the other side of the street so to speak. Picking up a few of the smaller boxes she sighed to herself as she followed him through the open door. Jack dropped the box with a hearty thud in the hallway, arching his back to its usual posture. He took a brief look up and down the hallway as Donna squeezed passed him into the kitchen. The house was perfectly Donna, freshly painted magnolia with pictures of babies and flowers hanging along the wall. Jack grimaced in Donna's absence.

"I have to say, I love what you're doing with the place," he lied, "the woman that lived here before you - Miss Kinslet, I think - very clean cut woman. Never bothered decorating, too work obsessed." He shook his head with nostalgia. "She had this stench about her, sorta felt like standing next to mouldy-"

"Milk?"

"Oh, you knew her? I was gonna say cheese but-"

Donna popped her head around the kitchen door, laughing "No, you muppet! Milk? In your tea?"

"Oh yes, thank you!" He chuckled at his mistake. "You know, I think I'm going to like you, Donna Noble."

As Donna returned to the kitchen there was the familiar snap of a kettle switch and the  
He shouted over the boiling water, "Of course, you're welcome to come along tonight. It'll be a great way to get to know everyone in Gallidale. I know Ianto will be dying to meet you..."

A chap on the open front door grabbed Jack's attention. Donna returned from the kitchen with two steaming mug just in time to greet her the new arrival. At the door stood a older girl dressed in a typical black pencil skirt and a white shirt, her tie tidily done up to her neck. She stood perfectly upright and symmetrically in the doorway. Her perfect appearance seemed very strange for a girl which such a rebellious streak of green through her short black hair. A familiar smile graced her lips as Donna handed Jack a mug.

"You were _supposed_ to be arranging the bunting," the girl lightly scolded him a very proper accent - the Queen's English - a level of elocution Donna had also not expected, "Although I appreciate introductions with our newest resident were in order."

Taking a few steps into the hallway, she extended a very jewellery weighted hand. Her smile was enchanting. Donna took her hand and allowed it to be gently and briefly gripped.

"My name is Vastra, it's a pleasure to meet you, Ms..?"

"Oh, I'm sorry! Vastra, this is Donna Noble. Donna, this is my daughter, Vastra!" He beamed with pride, throwing an arm around the girl's shoulders and yanking her in close for an awkward sideways hug, much to her distaste, "Or_ Madame Vastra_ as we like to joke. The only real dame in our house."

Donna smiled politely. She was hoping if Jack had any family the token _oh, you take after you dad!_ would be an option. As she watched Vastra politely remove her father's arm from her personal space it was clear this was not an option. So far Jack has exhibited nothing but zest and enthusiasm, whereas Vastra appear to be kind yet very self aware and socially educated. Yet, her flamboyant hair and jewellery were and obvious tribute to Jack. It was as if she was two different people compressed into one. It would be quite interesting to meet her mother.

"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you!" She eventually settled for, it seemed safer than any remark on the family.

"And mine also, Miss Noble." Vastra smiled, bowing her head with gratitude. "I'd love to stay and get better acquainted but I was just on my way to school," she turned to her father, "Jenny has kindly invited me round this evening so I won't be home till late. I'm afraid I would be quite bored to death with your evening's entertainment, with all the grown ups." She said with a faux childish voice.

"Hmm, well as long as you're back in the morning to say goodbye to Ianto. Although I'm not too keen on you spending so much time with that Jenny girl. She's a _bad_ influence."

"Or maybe I'm a _good_ influence on her." Vastra smiled secretively, a smile of which meaning was totally lost on Jack. Not, however, by Donna Noble.

"Dad, it's not like I'm eleven anymore. I'm seventeen," Amy's voice echoed around the house from the kitchen, "it's just down the road. The only boy that's going to be there is Rory and it's not like he's going to try anything!"

Up from the the study there was a muffled rebuttal. Amy, however was too busy inspecting the inside of the drinks cabinet. She rose up on her tip toes on the stone floor of the kitchen quietly moving bottles around looking for the most alluring option. _Wine? Nope... Whiskey? Oh God, definitely not. Aha..._ Her eyes focused solely on the half bottle of vodka, temptingly dressed in its perfect red label. A mischievous smile played across her lips and she grabbed the bottle and stuffed it to the bottom of her bag. A crime stopped mid way by the clearing of a near by throat. Amy groaned. _So close_. Drawing the bottle out of her bag she looked up behind her to see a condemning Clara, arms folded. As nice as it was of Clara to stay with them there were days she took the secondary guardian role further than Amy appreciated.

"Aw, c'mon, Clara!" Amy pleaded, "I was gonna have it with coke or something. Besides, it's not like there's going to be any at Jenny's. Her mum and dad are worse than you and my dad."

Clara raised an eyebrow, smirking a little at Amy's pitiful defence. Taking the bottle from Amy's hand, she replaced it back in the drinks cabinet, her actions matched with a heavy sigh from Amy. However, to Amy's surprise, Clara raised to her tip toes to look to the back of the drinks cabinet and gently drew out a different bottle and place it in Amy's hand. The liquid inside was a cool silver and bubble if you shook it too much. Amy grimace at the slightly less exciting bottle of vodka mixers.

"It might not be straight vodka but you can still have a good time off that. Your dad got it last month, he won't miss it. I trust you, Amy, but don't try and seek drink past me again, yeah?" Clara smiled, despite having no blood relation to Amy, she could help but see a lot of her teenage self in her. If she was going to be drinking, Clara preferred it was something she knew nothing bad would come from.

"Yeah, thanks Clara." Amy gratefully shoved the bottle into her bag with a slightly disappointed smile.

Amy threw her bag over he shoulder and fiddled with the shirt tucked into the waistband of her black skinny trousers self consciously.

"That Rory's a fool, you know," Clara smiled, bringing Amy in for a teasing hug.

Amy pushed her away with a laugh, "I... Don't know what your talking about!"

"You sure?" Clara smirk as she watched Amy fluffed her hair in the mirror next to the back door one last time before she left. Her face flushed bright red. She pulled a face at Clara before escaping through the back door. "Remember, be home by half eleven, yeah?"

Being pretty sure she had just spoken to an empty kitchen, Clara instinctively moved the kettle on to the burner. Tea was the first line of defence to any situation, be it serious or just a mild worry. Amy wasn't the easiest teenager at times but she was always grateful it wasn't as hard as it used to be. It had been six years since Melody's accident. Back then Amy was so withdrawn. James had been no help, having just lost the love of his life and all... It seemed strange to so willing give alcohol to a minor but firstly, this was the country and no one really noticed. Secondly, it was her eighteenth birthday in two weeks anyway. Most importantly, she was just happy Amy was actually getting out of the house and not still the reclusive little girl lost in her daydreams. She'd had a huge boost in her confidence lately... Luckily, Clara knew Rory was a nice boy. Despite how clueless he was.

Clara was risen from her deep thought by the heavy footfalls on the stairs. Nice to see James was taking an active roll in the parenting of his child, she thought with a smile. It wasn't his fault really, he just got so drawn in by his work. Yet, Clara was always thankful for that; his tinkering managed to pay for the roof over her head. He swung into the kitchen, his bow tie loosely strung around his neck - as it always was - and his sleeves were messily rolls up to his elbows. His thick mess of black hair was tousled back by the pair of magnifying goggles he used to touch up little pieces of circuitry. With the string if wires haphazardly hanging around his shoulder, he really did look like a lunatic. Of course, there were pros and cons of being the only electrician in town. Chances are he was only inspecting the blown fuse of a toaster but he looked like he'd fallen out of a science fiction film.

"Amy! Don't you dare go in the... Amy?" He lets his arms drop down to his side flatly, "I missed her didn't I?"

The kettle squealed softly on the stove. One thing Clara didn't miss about her travelling days - her life before Gallidale - was the James' stove. It filled the room with a cosy heat as Clara poured him out a cup of tea and sat him down at the kitchen table. She took one of his shirt sleeves, unrolled it and set about folding it properly.

"Don't worry," Clara reassured him, he sighed with relief, "she didn't get anything _too_ strong..."

James tensed up again before gazing down at Clara who wore a a perfectly cheeky grin, "why does that not make me feel better?"

"Because you're an over protective fool." Clara smiled to herself mostly, patting down his folded shirt sleeve and beginning on the other, "She's right y'know, maybe you _should_ let the reigns out a bit?"

James furrowed his brow with deep distress. Amy was truly his pride and joy. Amy, then his work; even if he did divide his time disproportionately in favour of the latter. Luckily - somehow, maybe because of her mum - Amy's love of her father was too blind and devoted to notice the times he'd forgot about her. James' heart would surely break if she ever worked that out. He'd always struggled with Amy, even with the basically difference in gender. That never stop Amy adoring her father, it just meant sometimes Clara became a better confidant. Or in this case, defence to the judge and jury. Clara hoped she fell into his list of loved thing, somewhere. Although, it didn't really matter, she told herself.

"I could push her bedtime back to ten o'clock?" He offered hopefully.

"I told her to be back at half eleven."

There was a sharp in take of breath to which Clara giggled. She patted down his second shirt sleeve then reached up and laid a kiss on his forehead. His look of fear faded into peace. There was something so calming about her presence. Although he never said it, or didn't know how, he like to think somehow knew how much he needed her. She was always here, she didn't to be. He cupped her face with his hand and brushed his thumb across the apple of her cheek. As if to say thank you.

Clara's blissful smile switched to a look of concern as her thoughts passed onto their plans for the evening, "speaking of late nights, we've got Jack and Ianto's thing tonight. You're brother will be there. I think you'd better have a shave, don't you?"

James groaned, exactly like Amy had moments ago when she had caught her with the vodka, like father like daughter... "do I _have_ to? I need to change the blade on my razor and always end up cutting myself and-"

"Oh, shut up, you big wimp!" Clara scolded him with little hits on his arm until he scampered off to the bathroom, "Look, I'm off to work, I'll pick you up at seven!"

Clara slung her coat over her shoulder and waited for his muffled response before head out. Oh, how would he ever cope without her?

"There's road works on Davidson, you'll have to go right." Martha commented.

"No... They finished up last week," John rebutted, with more aggravation than necessary, "this is for that stupid Gaillidale Show."

Martha tried not to take it personally, he always found driving stressful, especially in busy traffic. It was all because of the farm show coming up. The roads where chockablock with tractors and trailers carrying everything from pigs to manure. Since neither of them were involved was hard to be sympathetic. Well, the only directing of traffic which the police handled, but that hadn't been John's division in years. Of course, they would end up going and buying jams and candles and make a great day of it. Although the build up and clear out was something Martha dreaded all year round. She noted John's hands tighten on the steering wheel as he started to grind his teeth. Part of her wanted to tell him teeth grinding was a terrible habit and she didn't much fancy kissing a man with worn down teeth. Yet, since he was in one of his moods she held her tongue. _Not that there's been much 'kissing' done lately anyway..._ She almost muttered to herself.

"John, 'am gonna be late, can't we go any faster?" Jenny moaned from the backseat, head bent over her phone.

How she could tell how fast they were going when her eyes never left the screen was a mystery to Martha.

"No, we haven't moved more than an inch in the last ten minutes. Might be a while," he grunted, more softly for Jenny's sake.

He looked a picture of stress. Luckily the station was quite lax with his dress code. His skinny tie hung around his neck like a noose and his shirt sleeves were crumpled into the crook of his elbow. His jacket has been flung into the back seat the moment the got in the car. Martha new he detested driving in his jacket, it was hard to fit such a tall, skinny man in a suit. His jackets were always frustratingly tight. Jenny nodded mutely in response. She probably didn't care if she got to school on time. Although her attitude to school work had improved massively since they first took her in. She'd made good friends which seemed to help. Jack and James' girl particularly so.

Martha thanked the heaven they weren't both in a mood, she couldn't cope with that first thing in the morning, "although since we're stuck here we might as well go over some ground rules for tonight?" She asked, hoping for a distraction John's building aggravation.

"Oh, good idea, Martha..." John replied vaguely until he remembered what tonight was actually referring to, "yes, _of course_! Your friends, Jenny!" (She offered a questioning hmm?) "There better not be any drinking, or smoking or any _activities..._ Probably don't have the music too loud, I don't want to disturb Mrs Gillyflower, she's such a lovely woman-"

Jenny sighed audibly, "waht d'you fink 'vis is, the sixties? At 'vis rate we won't be playin' cards!"

Martha understood her distress, most kids her age in big cities were already sneaking in to clubs and Jenny of all people knew it. Before she came to Gallidale, Jenny had lived in London with her own family. Having grown up there herself, Martha knew the bizarre void between city and country life. John was bound to be less lenient, born and raised and settled in Gallidale, his country attitude were unlikely to be swayed. It was a talk she had had many times with Jenny. She twisted in her chair to pull a sympathetic face at Jenny, who kind spared a moment of her attention to shoot back a reluctant glare before returned to her phone. This was a big step for John, it had taken weeks of convincing.

Jenny caved, knowing there were few alternatives in her favour, "fine!"

Martha sent a thankful smile, "we'll be back for around midnight so have people out by half eleven."

Jenny nodded with little interest, another buzz from her phone and the texting frenzy continued. Martha would worry about who Jenny was text so early and constantly if she had the time. The traffic finally moved off and as did Martha's mind. She was already debating which was the best way to meet up with Donna for lunch at_ Love Brew!_ (Gallidale's one and only cafe, fondly known to the locals as 'the Brew') or if she'd even make it in time with this traffic. Wrapped in her own stresses, she missed Jenny's quiet gleeful squirm from the back seat as she read her latest message:

_clara caught me but i still got drink! well buzzin! cya 2nite babe,_  
_amy xx_

**Next time on Gallidale...**

_"I thought you were up for it, Clara!" He smirked, casually leaning back on the counter opposite her as if the slap had meant nothing. Her attempt at reigning back in some power was worthless._

_"Look at you, Rory, buying drink for three underaged girls," She grinned, "tonight might not be as bad I thought..."_

_His face seemed strangely familiar, it took a moment to put two and two together until-_

_"John Smith? Oh, have you got some explaining to do!"_


End file.
